Wheel of Fortune

I time dinner to hit the table midway through Wheel of Fortune. I figure a few minutes of puzzling over letters might stave off Alzheimer's disease. And, it saves Birdie from the undivided attention of two parents wanting to know lots of details about her day. For Birdie and I, the absolute best part of Wheel of Fortune is watching Big Guy. He shouts at the t.v. like it's a live sporting event. Contestants that don't solve puzzles fast enough are only slightly less shamed on than those that know the answer, choose to spin again, and then land on bankrupt. The true sissies really catch Big Guy's ire. They are the ones who have no money banked, but solve the puzzle without even a single spin. "Weinies" would be his word for them. While Birdie and I don't comment so much on the players, we are invested in the game. The final 10-second puzzle tends to send the three of us into a shouting match. Each of us thinks we are the smartest one, even if someone else shouts the answer more loudly. I don't know what strangers would think of the commotion if they knocked at the door. Even saving our souls would have to wait until Vanna flips the last letter.

Get To Work

Big Guy travels to Brazil and Argentina. Today, he is in Sao Paulo. This weekend, he will be in Buenos Aires. While he is gone, Birdie and I relax. Very little gets done. I walk the dog. Birdie watches Law & Order SVU. I feed the cats. Birdie watches Glee. I pick up my book, this week it's "Help." Birdie skypes a friend. We consider when the lawn might need to be mowed. Or rather, I think about mowing; Birdie thinks about taking out grass with Round-up. The house could use a vacuum, but really, who cares. Birdie remembers to go to school. I think about the grocery store...as in, why shop when fast food and fine dining exist?  I notice celery in the refrigerator. It has been there awhile. Birdie searches for the half-pint sized peach frozen yogurt. I ate it yesterday. Big Guy calls to tell me about the view from his sixth floor hotel room balcony. I think that a second cup of coffee in bed makes perfect sense. Big Guy describes Sao Paulo traffic, in a knot like always. I think, yeah, but soon you will be wandering the streets of beautiful Buenos Aires. Birdie complains about pre-calculus. I complain about the dishes. Both will get done, but not right now. I check my email. A photo of Big Guy stares back. It's that "Get to work" expression. A new email address or a better spam filter? Birdie and I will work on it.